


Another Day, Another Credit

by Nicola Mody (Vilakins)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-23
Updated: 2004-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilakins/pseuds/Nicola%20Mody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon has a bad day at the office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Day, Another Credit

There was a transporter accident causing huge queues so it took Avon an hour to get to work, which meant that there wasn't any coffee left. He glowered at the cold and empty pot, then looked up to see his supervisor, Heeton, ostentatiously checking his watch. Bastard. It never occurred to him to count the work one did rather than the hours one spent doing it, oh no.

There were several notes on his desk. As usual, they consisted of orders, do this, do that, see me, and were neither addressed to him or signed. Heeton liked to 'show people who was boss'. Knowing the man had half Avon's IQ was no consolation; he also had twice Avon's authority. He came over now, eating a sandwich, and loomed over Avon.

"Read my notes yet?" he asked, spraying crumbs on Avon's desk.

"No."

Heeton continued as if Avon hadn't spoken. "How long will that first task take?"

_It'd be a hell of a lot quicker without you leaning over me, chewing in my ear, you moron._ Avon strove to keep his voice even. "I don't know, yet."

"Your attitude leaves a lot to be desired."

Avon stared unseeing at his screen until Heeton finally left. Violence would not solve anything, but it would make him feel good, if only briefly.

He went out for lunch just to get away from the sight of Heeton consuming another sandwich at his desk while abusing someone over the comms. His usual lunch place was full, so he walked down to the next one.

"Kerr!"

Ah, just to make his day complete. Nygel Tynus from his university cryptology classes. Because it had been funny once to mispronounce his first name as 'cur', Tynus seemed to think it was funny always. "I prefer to be called Av--"

"I was hoping to run into you."

"I cannot say that the feeling is mutual."

"Good old Kerr, always the wit. Kerr, this is Keiller."

Keiller, his face stuffed with chips, nodded at Avon, who wondered if that was really his name or a Tynus joke about the man's resemblance to a space-going vessel.

"Kerr, we have this plan," Tynus leaned forward and lowered his voice, "to divert the payroll of that place you work for, but we need your help."

Avon bared his teeth in a predatory smile. "Well, now."

Suddenly the day looked a lot better.


End file.
